


National Security

by LyssGreen



Series: New Year's Eve [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Greg really has the patience of a Saint, It's a bit awkward, M/M, Morning After, Mycroft is not good at Relationships, for a bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyssGreen/pseuds/LyssGreen
Summary: The morning after their first night spent together is a little awkward, and involves quite a bit of apologising. And through the whole thing Mycroft is still trying to figure out what the night before really meant as he deals with his own internal conflict between not wanting a certain Detective Inspector to leave but also not knowing if a relationship would be possible. But it's okay, Greg is more than willing to be patient. And to cook omelettes. Sequel to A Kiss at Midnight





	

Mycroft woke slowly on January 1st 2011, a persistent ache making itself known at the side of his head which prompted Mycroft to think about what had caused the pain.

_Wine. That was the simple answer_ , he thought to himself as the night came back to him in fragments. He knew he would remember the whole night with his highly functioning brain that not even alcohol could damage the cognitive powers of.

_‘Do you have any plans for the rest of the night?’_

Oh, yes, he had said that hadn’t he. Perhaps he had been drowning his brain cells in a little too much alcohol last night, but considering who he asked perhaps it wasn’t a terrible choice. After all, it was not as if he had made a choice he regretted – quite the opposite actually. He had admired Gregory Lestrade for years, but from afar, last night however had allowed him a _very intimate_ position to admire the silver haired man from. And goodness hadn’t that been the best view he’d ever seen.

Although it became evident when he tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position that his ehad wasn’t the only part of him which ached from the night before.

Mycroft suppressed a shiver at the memory before rolling over in search of that silver haired man – and then realised as he rolled without touching anyone else that he was alone in the bed. He opened his eyes quickly to check for sure, although the white light of the early winter morning lighting up the room only made it harder to see with his slight hangover. Indeed he found that he was alone in the large bedroom, and the intensity of the pain that realisation caused caught Mycroft off guard. Had he been waking up to the handsome DI beside him – it would have been a literal dream come true. He’d had that dream a couple more times than he would care to admit. It really did hurt. He curled up on his side, closing his eyes.

This is why you haven’t ever made an attempt to pursue his affection for yourself – the inevitable sting of denial that would come after.

No, you cannot mope over this. It was one night and you are not a child – only children cry, not middle aged government officials. Idiot. What are you even thinking? Stop thinking about him and for god sakes stop your heart from doing that stuttering thing and – wait is that Greg’s shirt in the corner of the room?

Thud.

“Ow, shit, fuck!” Greg’s voice carried through to the bed room despite the audible attempt to shush himself for some reason that Mycroft was struggling to figure out.

He recognised the sound as coming from the kitchen.

So he didn’t leave.

The sound of Greg’s feet was barely audible as he padded over the plush carpet – however the sound of his footfalls did give away that his foot obviously hurt, stubbed his toe no doubt while attempting to walk through the house in the half darkness of the January morning. Two glasses clinked audibly onto the bedside unit at Greg’s side before his weight appeared atop the bed, causing the mattress to dip. Mycroft rolled in bed and turned to the man, wincing ever so slightly as he tried to ignore the obvious hangover that came from drinking whiskey before leaving the Diogenes and then a couple of glasses of red. Greg only appeared to have pulled his boxers on, other than that his tanned skin was still perfectly visible.

“You may have got on better if you had put the light on, Gregory.” He couldn’t resist using the man’s full name, preferring the feeling of the name in his mouth rather than the shortened version. In the hazy dark he caught a slight look of guilt pass over his features as he made an apologetic sound at the back of his throat but ultimately he appeared…happy. And he certainly showed no signs of wishing to escape, but rather he was laying down in his side of the bed and pulling Mycroft onto his warm chest.

 “Christ, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you Mycroft. I was trying to let you sleep a while longer, I just figured I’d get you a glass of water for when you did wake up. Sorry, guess I shouldn’t have even tried, eh?”

“You were trying to be quiet for me?” He couldn’t keep the confusion out of the words, the generosity of the act both touching and confusing to him, “That’s also why you didn’t put on the lights, which meant you were unable to see and then you stubbed your toe.” Mycroft’s reasoned out loud -  he always had struggled to reason internally after alcohol.

“Yeah, I did. Why’s that confusing you so much?” Greg looked down at Mycroft from where he had been half pulled atop Greg’s chest.

“Well, it’s just that that is very kind of you.” Mycroft murmured quietly, refusing to look up at the man, “Forgive me, I thought you had left when I woke up without you -  to then see such consideration, I appear to be a bit slow processing it.” He frowned at himself, annoyed both at the candidness with which he was speaking (another unfortunate side effect of the alcohol no doubt) and with how quickly he had drawn to a conclusion without analysing the facts fully. A rookie mistake, one which his brother would tease him for eternally should he ever be allowed to get hold of the information.

“You thought I’d just-?” Greg looked genuinely confused at the accusation of him leaving without a word, “No, Mycroft, I wouldn’t just up and leave like that, give me some credit. Geez if that’s your opinion of me I think I should be offended,” Mycroft felt Greg smile slightly against his hair as the slightly forced joking tone but the smile faded quickly, “Sorry, my fault for doing that.” Arms tightened around Mycroft, pressing the two men flush together.

Mycroft couldn’t help a slight laugh, “This morning appears to be a very apologetic one.” He found it easier to smile now that Greg was holding him so tightly. It was comforting, something that Mycroft hadn’t fully felt in a very long time now. Even as a child ‘comforted’ wasn’t an expression Mycroft would use to describe his feelings – perhaps at all in his whole childhood actually. Past the awkward apologies however Greg really was

“Yeah, I guess we are sayin’ sorry a lot, ain’t we? I ain’t going to apologise for last night though.” Greg stuttered slightly, grip on Mycroft loosening slightly, “That is unless – I mean, did you want me to be here when you woke up? God, Christ, I didn’t even ask. Admittedly it’s hard to fit easily into conversation, I just mean, would you have preferred to wake up to me gone? Bed to yourself again?” Mycroft tightened lithe fingers against the babbling DI’s chest protectively, fingernails just pressing down enough to create soft indents on the flesh.

_Of course I wanted you to still be here._

He could only seem to get the sentence to form in his head but thankfully Greg seemed to get the message from unrelenting finger pads pressing into him and he tightened his arms back around Mycroft again.

“Good.” There was a happy sigh in his voice, a relieved one, “Good. Get some more sleep Mycroft. We can deal with anything else later, its only half eight.”

“But I really should start doing some paperwork soon-”

“Nope,” Greg popped the ‘p’ sound easily, “I’m sure the country can survive long enough on its own while you sleep off that headache. Come on, My, sleep.” Greg couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling into the auburn hair that looked so different when it wasn’t immaculately styled, and far more inviting. A soft ‘mhm’ was the only response Mycroft gave before burrowing his own nose into Greg’s shoulder and quickly falling back to sleep. Safe. Safe in Greg’s arms. And he wasn’t even sure how he was already counting Greg as a safe haven but he certainly wasn’t going to fight it, not right now. Perhaps later.

\---

It had only taken another two hours or so before Mycroft woke up naturally and honestly, Greg was a little sad to not be able to watch him sleep any longer. He didn’t look like ‘The British Government, occasional CIA Freelancer and scowling no-nonsense-all-business-government-official’ that Sherlock made the man out to be, not while he was asleep anyway. Greg hadn’t dared doze off again after clambering back into bed beside Mycroft.

“Wha’ time s’it?” Mycroft stifled through a yawn pushing himself off of Greg’s chest slightly.

“ ‘Bout twenty five past ten, you hungry yet?” Mycroft replied with a positive sounding “mhm” sound that Greg somehow understood and he laughed slightly in reply, “Let me up then, I’ll scavenge your kitchen for food. ‘Make something nice.”

It was another ten minutes until Mycroft eventually dragged himself out of bed and followed Greg into the kitchen and found him cooking omelettes. The pure domesticity of the sight felt like a brick wall as it hit Mycroft. Gregory Lestrade, handsome, silver fox, DI and object of more than a couple of the lower ranking members at Scotland Yard admiring looks – must be something about the silver combined with the tanned skin – standing in his kitchen and cooking for the two of them as if it were completely normal. It was the silver hair that didn’t fail that grab Mycroft’s attention, Gregory had always grabbed his attention going back five or six years.

“What’re you thinking about?” Greg was staring at him, looking for some kind of indicator in his face to puzzle out Mycroft’s thoughts.

“The events that have led to me having a detective inspector cooking breakfast for me.”

“Well, really it’s closer to lunch than it is to breakfast.” Greg grinned, flashing white teeth and appearing entirely at home. “On the note of food however, plates?” Mycroft pointed out the correct cupboard and drawer to find plates and cutlery and took a seat at the breakfast bar he’d been leaning on as he waited for Greg.

“Smells lovely, Gregory.” Mycroft mumbled awkwardly, lost for words and didn’t say anything further as they ate. Greg’s cooking really was delicious, but Mycroft couldn’t take himself out of his own thoughts for long enough to realise he was barely eating it.

_One night without thinking, yes I promised myself that. And when Gregory asked if I’d rather wake up alone of course the answer was no. Sleeping is never easy and nor is turning off the constant swirling of thoughts but last night both occurred, with Greg present. There is something about him that creates an aura of safety, which drops all of the walls that I have tried ever so hard to construct. But I feel safe with him, even after one night. All positives for the DI. So why am I unable to shake the feeling that I am doing something wrong here? Severely, greatly wrong. And it is for good reason isn’t it? How long has it been since I was with anyone, properly with anyone?_ _I am not the kind of person for him. Greg was too_ kind _for him. This shouldn’t have ever happened. It was a security risk, surely, for goodness sake. So why are we still sitting across the table from eachother and acting so…domestic? Normal._

“Okay,” Mycroft jumped as Greg started speaking, “I’ve either cooked a worse omelette than I thought or overstayed my welcome. Or offended you somehow. Either way, d’you reckon you could tell me which of the above it was? Or all of? I’d be willing to add an ‘other’ option.”

_Perhaps a ‘none of the above’ option would be more appropriate._

“It is nothing that you did. I assure you. It’s simply…” _There’s nothing simple about it, that’s why you’re confused. Simple implies that it is solvable. What to do about this situation is not solvable, there is no foreseeable correct answer_.

“I kinda asked already but I’m willing to ask again, Mycroft. Do you want me to go?”  Greg’s soft brown eyes were gazing straight at Mycroft, there was no avoiding them or the apparently infinite patience that was visible on his face.

“No.” Mycroft frowned and stared down at the table as he spoke but he could still catch the slight confusion on Greg’s face.

“Okay, forgive me for needing it spelled out for me then but you know, dumb copper here, what is the matter then?”

“You aren’t dumb, Gregory. Give yourself some credit.”  Mycroft forced a smile as he mirrored the DI’s words from earlier in the morning, “It is just that I do not know what happens after this. I don’t do this. ‘One night stands’ as I understand them occur in similar circumstances to how we found our way here but the way that you have acted since you woke up implies that that is now how you wish to treat this and…Well, I am just out of my depth here.”

Greg stared a little blankly at Mycroft for just a second before smiling warmly.

“Can’t say I’m hugely used to all this either, not all of us bisexuals are used to hooking up with some random bloke or woman after a couple of drinks – though that is the common opinion. I’m not entirely sure how to act either. I don’t want to treat this as a one night stand, My. I’m also only about a week out of a relationship and don’t want to treat you as a rebound. Which you aren’t, by the way, didn’t mean to imply that. Shit. Back to rambling again.”

“If this isn’t going to just be a one night affair then what are you implying?” Mycroft was aware he was being slightly pedantic at this point but he couldn’t help it, he had to be sure exactly what the detective inspector was implying. For no particular reason of course. He couldn’t pursue a relationship in his position anyway, no matter what was said. Probably. Surely.

“I’m implying that perhaps for now if you have the time to spare we watch TV or something equally relaxing and when we both get a gap in our schedules we go out for dinner. See if we can make this last. Hows that?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. You really are the intelligent one at this table.” Mycroft found himself able to smile again and found it greeted by Greg’s own dazzling grin.

“Brilliant, but I wouldn’t call me the intelligent one here. Now, eat up, can’t let you go on an empty stomach after last night’s ‘energetic activities’.”

*

New Year’s Eve 2011

“Please tell me you haven’t gotten caught up tonight of all nights, Gregory?” Mycroft was leaning against the door frame of Greg’s office in Scotland Yard, apparently having become impatient waiting for his partner to come home.

“I swear, My, just let me finish this one report and we can go to that fancy dinner you’ve been trying to keep a secret from me.” Greg stalled for time as he signed his name in the boxes that required it. He did however catch the way that Mycroft shifted from one foot to another nervously when he had revealed knowledge of the anniversary dinner that Mycroft had arranged.

“And here I thought I was being very discreet about tonight’s plans.” Mycroft glared half-heartedly but it only seemed to prove humorous.

“And you were discreet, love. Just so happens that you’re going out with a detective inspector. It’s kind of in the title, detecting stuff, investigating stuff. It’s my job to know things.” Greg laughed as he got up and began getting ready to leave the office.

“As is it mine to know when people are lying and to deduce information but you still managed to surprise me on my birthday without me knowing a thing. I was trying to repay you for that, or at least break even.”

Greg walked over to Mycroft with purpose, confiscated the umbrella from his hands and propping it up against the wall and took both of his hands in his own. Greg lifted his heels so he was balancing on the balls of his feet so that he could be eye level with his partner and rested their foreheads together.

“Mycroft Holmes, love, you do not need to ‘break even’ in a relationship. Honestly I never thought I’d keep that birthday dinner hidden. And I only figured today out ‘cause there was no fight with the chief over getting tonight off. Figured Anthea had something to do with that.”

“Drat, my caring gave me away. Goodness how I was once right, caring really mustn’t be an advantage after all. Next time I’ll leave you to fight for your own days off and I definitely won’t get involved with business higher up the chain of command so that you get tomorrow off – or at least have you down as on loan to the government. For national security of course.” Mycroft's smile was easy as he moved his arms to wrap around Greg. They'd come a long way from the awkward conversation they were having in a bar a year ago.

“Of course, national security,” Greg grinned, “Not at all just so that we can have a long lie in bed.”

“Not at all. After all, if you aren’t there who will make omelettes, goodness knows how much danger the country could be put in if an official in my position didn’t eat correctly. Or even worse, someone else made it and made me ill. No, it shall have to be you.”

“Mhm, right.” Greg kissed him softly with a smile, “Happy anniversary, My.”

“Happy anniversary, Gregory. Now come, we have a dinner reservation to get to.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I made any glaring errors in this but I'm very sorry if I did (this was typed when I was meant to be writing my German dissertation after all, I didn't spend the greatest amount of time on it). I'm aware also that new years 2011/12 should be when Sherlock jumped (Ish) - assuming I've got my dates right. I am also ignoring that fact cause I just wanted this to be a fluffy fic goddamnit, I don't want to go into the common tropes of Mycroft lying to Greg about Sherlock's death etc etc. At least not in this fic anyway. Anyways, moving on I hope y'all enjoyed that, hope it was okay and thanks for reading. Kudos/comments appreciated - Lyss
> 
> Edit: I've been told that I've spelt 'head' wrong in here...somewhere... I can't find it, likely because I've lost my reading glasses and everything on the screen is rather blurry, so if anyone could tell me where that is I'll fix it. :)


End file.
